Chronicles of Shah

Private Emotion.

Its not sumthing that u show readily. It is sumthing that's sacred, reserved only for urself or perhaps those closest to you. Perhaps the reason why I always go to the pusara alone.

Today was a special exception. I went there this mornin wif my mum n sis. Left my ride behind and tompanged Kak Barya and Abg Syam's spanking new Hyundai.

Dark clouds heralded rain today. It felt strange goin to dad's pusara with them. The last time we went there as a family was twelve years ago when he just left us... a time when I was still juz that young innocent boy. I stood apart frm them as they made their way there... sum wounds are juz too deep for reconciliation. Perhaps I am ashamed of myself. I was always the black sheep of the family. But I took a deep breath... after all, it was mum n sis that wanted me to go wif em. Perhaps... I wan to believe that old wounds are indeed healing. Time... time heals all wounds. Perhaps with time, even forgiveness can be earned.

We trimmed the overgrown weeds and changed the white cloth that embraced the tombstones. I held the umbrella over them as they sat beside his final resting place recitin verses of the yassin and offering doa. Its so peaceful here. The smell of raindrops minggled wif the scent of freshly trimmed grass... I can see both Kak Barya and Abng Sham at Arwah nenek's pusara a short distance away.

We then proceeded to Abadi/Aman II. Lotsa ppl were there today. I believe today was the Chinese's official grave visitin day. There were buses and lotsa vehicles in attendace that police MPs were posted at strategic chokepoint to prevent illegal parkings tht would cause serius congestions and flaring tempers.

While mum and sis went to arwah Pak Ngah's and Tok Din, I went my own way to visit a specter of my past. I managed to locate it wifout much difficulty. It was drizzlin and I wasnt too bothered wifout an umbrella. I prefer rain to the hot sun. A quiet walk of abt 10 min and I reached there... to the final resting place of my adopted bro. My eyes sought the date of his departure. 16th Sept 2004. Sumtimes I feel it was only yesterday I was sitin wif him at Siglap wif a glass of Milo Dino for him as a treat... tickling and teasing him. I really miss that pale botak head of him. If he's alive rite now he would be at the age of 11 rite now... doin his primary five education. I'm glad to see the well maintained pusara. His real parents muz really missed him... coz I do. I briefly offered fatehah and doa, and left a small bouquet of white roses on his tombstone. With the remaining white roses in hand, I made my way deeper into the pusara... further into the past and those interred there.

I stared at long moments at the name engraved on the tombstone as sumthing heavy settled at the bottom of my stomach. The ever so familiar emotions of regret and sorrow found its way back into my heart. A vivid recollection of that fateful nite replayed in my mind's eye.

My heart sank. Shoulders heavy wif the weight of guilt and regret. My conscience... is it my conscience? Or the voice of reason whispered in my ears... "No matter what u do... no amount of good deeds performed can ever bring the dead back to life... or change the past for that matter." I physically closed my eyes, trying to shunt all the voices and images running amok in my mind. I methodically removed the abundant weeds and dead leaves and twigs and set abt tryin to make her final resting place much neater and cleaner. It took me a good 15-20 min, by the time I was done I was sweating, but feelin much physically and emotionally better. Perhaps that ritual cleansed my inner self clean. Mind over matter perhaps. Who knows?

I poured the remaining rose water and left the remaining white roses on her tombstone after a brief prayer for her departed soul. After one last glimpse of her name, I gathered my belongings and left her final resting place...

I was glad that I was the 1st one to complete my maintenance. My and sis were still occupied wif Kak Barya and Abg Sham. I took shelter at a nearby tree that was near to the car... my hands diggd into my pocket. No dun worry, its not ciggies.. but rather, mentos mints. I popped one into my mouth while doin reflections of my own.

You knw... u realize that a person is really gone when u can see the grave with your own two eyes. I always wanted to believe that my life is like a waking dream... that perhaps one day I will wake up and realize all that hav happened is juz but a bad dream. I always harboured that notion deep in my heart... like a burning denial waiting to be proved wrong.

Looking at all the graves... I knw I am not dreaming. Self acceptance. It is here I truly realized a person's mortality. Anyone can go...anytime. Here I do not thnk that waking up tomorrow is assured. It is here that I realized how tarnished and tainted my soul is. That alam barzagh is so close... an inevitable event. Itz just a question of when.

But why izzit that my heart is still tightly closed? What is the catalyst that I am waiting for? I was quiet throughout the journey back. Though I hav forsaken most of my dark trappings... there is still sumthing dark lurkin in the recesses of my soul. Violence? Carnal pleasure? Hatred?

I watched the lamppost pass me by... of other vehicles on the road. I closed my eyes... and once again flashs of my past replayed in my mind's eyes... the joyful laughter...dad's warm smile assuring me... friends of old and luved ones that hav gone before me...

Perhaps sumday... I will find the courage to reveal the true me to my parents. Why izzit so hard for me to show compassion and the softer side of me to my mum n sis? Fear? Fear of what? Why izzit that I always show my gruff and the i-dont'care-attitude to them when the truth is that I do care?